


Through the Clouds

by dreamingthroughwords



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Introspection, basically a drabble i wrote in a burst of spontaneity, basically the moments as they fall from rhadmanthus, these two just didn't let go of each other the whole time huh, very light on dialogue like only 2 lines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 14:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30141222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingthroughwords/pseuds/dreamingthroughwords
Summary: Mòrag and Brighid are falling, fast towards the Cloud Sea, and they don't let go.
Relationships: Kagutsuchi | Brighid/Meleph | Mòrag Ladair
Kudos: 15





	Through the Clouds

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sure that like, morag had other things on her mind during that intense final sequence, but this is basically that 20 seconds that they're actually falling and are in like, survival mode, just focusing on one thing, ya know? but basically i listened to the tomorrow with you, immediately thought about the fact morag and brighid held onto each other the entire way down, screenshotted it a bunch of times, and wrote this in a burst of spontaneity.

They’re falling.

This container they’re in—a type of ship, perhaps something those of the past used to escape, in one way or another—it’s oddly shaped, with metals and technologies Mòrag had never known even existed until they had climbed the World Tree, all the way above Alrest.

And whatever this technology is, it’s not sturdy, it’s shaking, and they’re falling fast, too fast, towards the Cloud Sea.

Mòrag grits her teeth and squeezes the hand enveloped within her own—Brighid, beside her, both of them holding onto each other, afraid to let go should the slightest malfunction occur. They don’t need to look at each other—the familiar touch is enough.

From her peripheral vision, she can see Brighid’s flames as her Blade leans slightly into her, but not all the way. Mòrag shifts her gaze from the ground to the seat in front of her, where she can see Nia gripping the armrest. She sees Tora holding on to the front with his wings and Rex tapping at buttons—and in front of them, through the window, pieces of debris flowing left and right, and the Cloud Sea coming closer and closer much _too_ fast.

She feels Brighid’s foot tap against hers as they hit something and a bump almost lifts them from their seats. She can barely see the other side of the pod, but she heard Zeke and Pandoria grunt from their seats adjacent to them.

There’s an explosive sound behind her and the air suddenly gets thick and a harsh gust of wind sweeps through the container. She doesn’t think; she turns and pulls Brighid’s face into her chest and Brighid wraps her own arms around Mòrag as the metal breaks and what was once solid matter becomes empty air. 

They’re falling, and now the only protection they have is each other’s embrace as they plummet further and further down towards the Cloud Sea. 

Mòrag’s eyes are closed, and she can faintly see the glow of Brighid’s hair through her eyelids—her face is buried in the space of Brighid’s neck, their legs intertwined to ensure they don’t lose each other. Brighid holds tight as though one single move would cause them to seperate. Brighid’s face is tucked under Mòrag’s neck—this hold is one they’ve only used in private moments, quiet and peaceful ones with each other. A position of tranquillity turned into one of survival.

The others’ are screaming but she can barely hear anything else through the sound of her own heartbeat along with Brighid’s breathing. The debris around them sounds like her whips when she hits solid matter—fast and harsh, a sound no human or Blade should ever experience if they want to _live._

Yet, here they are.

Brighid pulls Mòrag’s back closer and Mòrag does the same. Between the clashing metals and bangs and whistles that surround them is a familiar sound—it’s faint, but Mòrag would know that sound anywhere.

A core crystal.

As she falls back, she sees white in her peripheral vision, and she knows it's Dromarch. She keeps Brighid as close as possible and tightens her grip on her left arm, and takes a breath as she lets go of Brighid with her right and grasps his extended tail.

No doubt they’re against a Titan—Azurda, somehow back to his true form.

Surely, a final gift to them.

As Mòrag and Brighid set their knees against the rough skin of Azurda’s back, Mòrag immediately pulls Brighid into her.Her left arm is settled on Brighid’s back, and Mòrag once again takes Brighid’s face and brings it to her chest. She can hear Brighid sigh, one of relief, as Brighid returns the grip on Mòrag’s knee.

They’re _alive._ They _survived._

Mòrag and Brighid don’t move from their position—keeping a hand within reach of the other, just as the reminder that they’re both here, alive, together. Brighid squeezes Mòrag’s knee, and returns the gesture to both Brighid’s shoulder and arm. She’s warm, her flames a familiar comfort even in the most foreign of circumstances.

“Brighid,” Mòrag whispers, and her head is nestled right beside Brighid’s ear, her voice so quiet that she knows only her Blade would have heard it.

Brighid shifts her arm to Mòrag’s shoulder and slides her embrace down her arm so she’s holding her elbow. A brief sensation of heat is sent through the touch, and Mòrag lifts her head, just as Brighid shifts hers.

Their lips briefly touch in the movement—not in a kiss, in a moment of closeness, a moment where they want to be as close to each other as possible as a reminder that they’re _alive._ They pull back; ever so slightly, and their gazes meet.

Mòrag is not sure what her expression is telling Brighid—she feels relieved, and scared, and so many other emotions, still trying to comprehend the sacrifice they had all just witnessed but no time to dwell on as they ran for their lives.

Brighid's eyebrows are furrowed, but she’s smiling ever-so-slightly, a mix of sadness and solace, thoughts likely on the same path as Mòrag’s own.

“Lady Mòrag,” Brighid says, voice soft and matching the tone that Mòrag had used only mere moments before.

So much has happened, in such a short amount of time, that Mòrag can hardly comprehend any of it. There are so many thoughts swirling in her brain, of failure and success and purpose and survival, but these are _too many._ But, right now, in this fleeting moment, she can focus on Brighid. Brighid, the one person she’s always been sure of, the one constant in her life where she'll go one direction and always find Brighid, the one person that she can direct her focus towards when she needs grounding.

Nothing else needs to be said as they just _look_ at each other. Mòrag can barely comprehend everything that has just happened, and no doubt that Brighid feels the same. The only certainty they both have right now is _each other,_ and neither of them want to let go.

Mòrag and Brighid are alive, after the fight of their lives, one she could have never imagined for either of them.

But it’s not over.

Now, they need to know if the same can be said about the place they called home for their entire lives, whether it survived, or whether it…

Mòrag can’t think about that, not after all they’d accomplished.

With a nod to Brighid, Brighid slides her arm from Mòrag’s right knee to her left, and turns her gaze forward. Mòrag keeps her own wrapped around Brighid’s back, loosening her grip just barely. She follows Brighid’s line of sight, and a familiar sea of clouds is spread out below them. In front of them, though, is a large wall of clouds, flowing upwards like when they first visited Leftheria.

The wall of clouds is rising practically as high as the distance they had fallen, and as they get closer, Mòrag grips Brighid’s hand even tighter. Their knees are resting against each other now that they’re sitting, and each place their bodies have a hold on each other are firm reminders that they keep each other grounded and steady for what they’re about to witness.

Whether they succeeded in finding Elysium, or it really was a myth all along.

Her vision fills with white as they enter the Cloud Sea. She closes her eyes, letting Brighid’s touch and warmth flow through her.

The air seems to get thick once again before it suddenly becomes easier to breathe, and she knows the wall is thinning, and they’re almost to the other side.

_Please, Niall, Aegaeon—everyone—be safe. Let their sacrifice be worth the many lives we can save. Please, let this have all been worth it._

These are the words that run through Mòrag’s mind, just before she takes a breath and opens her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> is aegaeon like, technically supposed to be with them during this???? same with roc????? the blades with story relevance but also never in any cutscenes and delegated to sidequests <3 uh just pretend he stayed behind to help niall....video game logic
> 
> have a lovely day/night/afternoon/morning wherever you are, as always, comments & kudos are appreciated! <3


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